Green Satin Panties
by Ashes0909
Summary: Castiel wanted to be useful, so Castiel decided to do the laundry. He ends up finding more than he expected. [Now Complete.]
1. Chapter 1

Castiel decided that if he could not be an angel, than at least he'd be useful in other ways. Which is how he found himself under flickering fluorescent lights sorting piles of flannel and denim in the bunker's basement. It was quiet without Sam and Dean. Sometimes Castiel appreciated it; he liked the way he could roam through the library, adding notes and corrections – being useful. But other days, like today, the quiet made him lonely.

He picked up a soft flannel button up and shook it out, the smell of Winchesters fanning into the laundry room. They should be back soon; at least that's what Sam's text had said. Castiel let the thought ease his loneliness and the frustration that he could not be out on the hunt, that he was no longer useful in a way that mattered.

The feel of satin under his fingertips cut into his thoughts. As soon as Castiel looked down at the laundry pile, images of Dean and Sam driving down the endless road in the Impala disappeared. Sitting on top, pressed between his two fingers, was a pair of ladies panties.

Castiel dropped the item like it was on fire. He stared at it a moment before crouching to get an eyelevel point of view of the garment. _When was the last time a human woman entered the bunker?_ He sincerely doubted it had been between the last time he did laundry – only last week – and today.

He reached a finger out to slide under a fold of the fabric, lifting the crumpled satin and lace. As they turned in his hand, a scent musky and so very _Dean_ hit his nose.

He dropped them again, and took a step back as images of Dean _– Dean in forest green satin and lace, the fabric stretched and barely holding him in; Dean coming out of the shower in only the tiny-_ Castiel sucked in a breath as a feeling he identified as arousal grew deep within him.

 _What should I do now?_ His pulse raced at the thought of touching the garment again but, he had been doing their laundry for months – surely, Dean could not have wanted him to find it. Right?

 _Dean, bending over his bed with satin pulling across his backside–_ Castiel couldn't stop the images. He closed his eyes against them, stepping forward to grab the panties and a handful of Dean's other clothes.

He threw them into the washing machine, slammed the lid shut and ran back to his room where he tried to think of anything else: his brothers and sisters in heaven, Sam and Dean hunting, cheeseburgers. Nothing could stem the barrage of Dean in satin panties. His hand flew to his own growing bulge as soon as the door closed against the empty bunker.

Castiel had experienced arousal before, had awoken in a wet spot from dreams of blurred faces touching him all over. He had recently started experimenting with different fantasies when the problem…arose, so to speak. But nothing had gotten him as hard as the thought of Dean wearing those panties under his jeans.

His hand fell to the zipper of his pants as he leaned against the bedroom door. He wouldn't even make it to the bed, he just grabbed two tissues from his nearby desk and stroked. Once, twice, his hand dragging over the bulge while the Dean in his mind cocked a hip, face transforming from its cocky smirk to flushed cheeks. Castiel came.

His head hit against the door as he took a steadying breath. He looked down at the crumpled, wet, tissue in his hand and, for a fleeting moment, wished it was green satin.

Dean needed a shower. His arm ached from the djinn twisting it behind his back and he had _way_ too much of someone else's blood sticking to his hair. He bypassed his bed and moved straight to the bathroom down the hall. He spent his time letting the warm water pound against his aching muscles.

By the time he walked into his room, he was almost a sleepwalker. Castiel had tidied up, that much made it through his exhausted haze. Dean had tried to tell his friend that he didn't need to earn his keep, but it continued to fall on deaf ears.

He stopped short at the sight of a pile of folded, clean, laundry; a pair of satin green panties on top.

Adrenaline shot through Dean and he ran forward, twisted the _should-be-hidden panties_ into his hand and shoved them into the nearest draw.

 _Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._ He pulled on some very plain white boxers and started pacing. _Shit, this means Cas…_

He could just imagine the confused former-angel lifting his _–oh god, he had cum in those –_ panties, blinking with a tilted at them.

 _Oh, god._

He gripped his hair tightly and tried to ignore the twinge in his groin at the thought of someone, hell of Cas, finding out his secret. Fucking panties didn't mean anything when he slipped them under his jeans or spent a night sleeping in them but found in his laundry basket, that meant something.

It meant someone else knew and _fuck_ it's not like he was a fulltime crossdresser – not that there was anything wrong with that – but it wasn't _him._ He just liked the feel of lace tightening around his cock.

People like shit, that's what people do.

 _What could Cas have thought?_ Dean didn't want to think about it but he couldn't help it – _did he blush when he saw the panties? Did he even know what they were? Oh god, did he try them on himself?_

Just the suggestion of Cas in his cum-stained satin panties made his cock twitch. He would not think about the reasons behind said twitch, no sir, not at all. Instead, he paced some more and tried to think of what he would tell Cas. If he even had to bring it up, maybe he could just sweep it under the rug. Maybe.

Cas woke early the next morning, filling a cup of coffee in a quiet kitchen. The quiet wasn't lonely anymore. He could hear Sam typing in the next room and knew that Dean would be waking up soon.

He hoped Dean wasn't angry with him. After Castiel's…indiscretion, he had continued with his laundry chore, moved on to cleaning the bathrooms and cataloguing the library like it was just another day.

 _Except it wasn't any other day._

He had kept busy and almost succeeded in keeping the thought of Dean in panties out of his mind, _panties that must bring out the color of his eyes when he was panting and flushed and–_

"Hiya, Cas," Dean's voice as he entered the kitchen knocked Cas from the unwanted vision. He must've turned bright red too because Dean cursed and brought his fingers to his temple, pressing away the tension and avoiding Castiel's eye.

"I guess we're gonna have to talk about this, then." Dean addressed the kitchen tile floor.

Castiel's eyes dropped below Dean's waist. Dean audibly groaned. Castiel spun back towards the coffee maker. "Would you like a cup?"

Changing the subject was a suitable way to avoid an awkward conversation, Dean had taught him that. Before the Hunter even answered Castiel turned and thrust a cup of too hot coffee into his friend's hand. It sloshed over the rim and onto his boxers.

Castiel blushed again.

"Oh for the love of – look, we don't have to act all awkward about this?"

"We don't?" Castiel asked because this certainly seemed to be the definition of awkward.

"No. People like pretty things sometimes, okay? Like Sam and his long hair."

Castiel watched Dean flutter his empty hand in the air like the gesture made the comment sensible.

"But Dean, Sam's hair isn't sexual."

"Ah, jeez Cas," Dean's own cheeks reddened. "Do you really have to say that word?"

Castiel tilted his head. "Sam?"

"No! Sexual."

"That is what this is, correct? Fetishism is almost as old as humans themselves, especially this one in particular. Although not always with the same garments. Throughout history it has often – "

"Okay, Cas, that's enough. Please stop saying fetish and sexual and, look, okay. Maybe it does have something to do with that, just a little, little, little bit. But really, it's just the colors and the fabric okay. I like the feeling of it or whatever. Nothing…weird."

It got much weirder two days later.

"Cas," Dean whispered as soon as he cornered his friend in the back of the library. "Why is there a shopping bag with pink tissue paper sitting on my desk?"

Castiel, for his part, had enough self-preservation to at least look ashamed. "You said you liked pretty things."

Dean's jaw clenched. "That doesn't mean you needed to go out and _buy_ me something."

"Well- "

"And how did you even get it anyway, you drive to Victoria's Secret yesterday afternoon?"

"There's one in the nearby shopping mall and –"

"And what? You just waltzed in and asked for the largest size?" Dean's blood pressure rose, he watched his friend face morph from confusion to disgruntled. "Look it's not that I'm mad –"

"Based off your tone and the reddish hue to your face, I'd have to disagree."

Dean sighed. He didn't want his friend to think he was mad at him. "I'm just so used to keeping this a secret, you know? And now all of a sudden you're out on a shopping spree and ya, it's a little weird."

Castiel looked up, blue eyes meeting him and Dean realized how close they were. "Did you open them? How did you like them? Did you try them on?"

That deep voice asking Dean if he had tried them on, it turned husky at the thought of just the thought Dean in panties – unless that was his overactive imagination? Dean could only flush in response, all his anger dying and reincarnating into embarrassment.

"Not…really. The bag itself is a little telling." And a little exciting. Dean had never let himself go into the store, deeming it too _public._ No, only online orders of panties for Dean Winchester. Coming up here, to corner Cas had almost been a distraction from what his mind was truly occupied with: the panties.

 _He keeps saying "them" too, like there is more than one, or maybe a corset or something else._ Dean had never let himself try on anything else but the panties and just the thought of it was getting him too excited, especially this close to Cas.

"I can return them, if you'd like."

"No!" Castiel raised an eyebrow, then blinked, waiting for Dean to say more. "It's just, you already went out and bought them and maybe – did you hear that?"

"What, Dean?"

"I think Sam is calling me."

"I did not hear anything, let alone Sam calling for you."

"No, I'm sure I heard it."

And then he ran. John Winchester had taught Dean that sometimes it takes more courage to escape than stay and fight, and hell this is one of those times.

He ends up back in his bedroom, face to face with the pink bag of hell. He couldn't even focus on anything else in the room. His heart pumping from his chest in the direction of what he knows is woman's lingerie. Bought for him, by Cas.

Dean took a deep breath. He knew he'd open the bag, he didn't have the strength not too. So what if maybe, just maybe, he took a little excitement from it.

He always wanted to push apart the pink tissue paper and it felt soft under his calloused fingertips. Inside the bag, he felt lace and ribbons and silk. Dean blushed and felt himself start to harden.

He turned the bag over and let five pair of panties fall to the bed. So many colors. Castiel had bought him a white frilly pair, a leather black one, red lace with ribbons, another green one made of cotton and a thong.

Dean had never owned a thong. This one was as pink as he knew his face was at the moment but god, had he always wanted one of these. He sometimes pulled up the single satin pair he owned up and into his ass just to feel the sensation.

 _Fuck, I don't know whether to sock Castiel in the face or kiss him, but I definitely know I won't be able to look him in the eye anytime soon….and I shouldn't think about kissing Cas._

He slid off his white plain boxers and slid on the white frilly pair slowly, letting the elastic stretch around the muscle of his thigh before settling against his fully hard cock. He hissed at the pressure, slid his body up the bed, and cupped his hand around the frills and his bulge. Slowly he moved his fist up and down as his eyes slipped closed.

Behind shut eyes he imagined walking around the bunker in his just his panties, swaying his hips to phantom music and making the frills shake with them. His fist clenched around his cock at the thought of curious blue eyes watching him from the library shelves and he came to thoughts of teasing a spying Castiel.

A month passed. Castiel sat next to Sam doing some research for an impending hunt. Dean had just walked into the room wearing sports shorts and a white tee shirt. The shorts clung against him as he bent over to grab a book from the nearby stack.

Castiel knew he should return his gaze to the book he was reading but he had become so in tune with Dean's movements over the past month. He just wanted to catch another glimpse.

The first time he saw the rim of red elastic under Dean's denim, Castiel had to make excuses to leave the room. He couldn't trust himself not to stare otherwise. Dean had a knowing smirk as he left.

The second time it was the black leather pair. Dean was climbing a ladder, Castiel beneath him. The man had been wearing the same shorts he was now and it was easy, too easy, to look up the leg of the shorts to see leather cupping a flaccid cock. Dean had to ask him to repeat the title of the book they were searching for three times. Castiel still doesn't know if he imagined Dean spreading his legs wider on the ladder or not.

This time, Castiel could easily see the thin strap of the thong slowly appearing while Dean's shorts slid down as Dean bent over. He watched, transfixed as more and more of the pink was revealed. Dean stood up quickly, pulling up his pants and looking over his shoulder, right at Castiel.

Luckily, a book hid Sam's face so he did not have to witness the blush that erupted across Castiel's face at Dean's wicked smile that followed. Castiel's groin tightened but he turned back to his book.

Dean was officially teasing him.

It went on for days. Dean kept finding excuses to bend over or lift up his shirt so a thin sliver of color would be revealed. It had to be intentional; Dean's smirk suggested nothing less.

Then, it got much worse.

They were on a hunt when Castiel sensed his grace.


	2. Chapter 2

As an angel, he should be helpful. He could sense the arrival of demons far better than a human; he could smite his foes efficiently and easily.

He could also see through fabrics.

The thing about being an angel was, Castiel never cared before Dean. He had a mission, he expended energy only to carry out his mission. Adjusting his sight so that he could see a skeleton proved useful when a soldier was injured, scanning a soul for darkness had been necessary as well.

But evaporating denim from his field of vision – he had never needed to practice that skill on the battle field. He knew he could, though, and he struggled against it every single moment of this endless road trip back to the bunker because Dean Winchester had been teasing him for weeks.

Sam was taking their recently-saved-human the next state over, leaving Castiel sitting in the passenger seat of the Impala. Dean's hand kept tapping against his thigh, rubbing and tapping with the beat of the music.

It proved distracting because Castiel now wondered if lace or silk or satin snagged onto the denim. He tried not to focus on the hand and its motions just as he tried not to focus on his ability to see through the barrier.

Except, as an angel, he could also read minds. So, he was well aware that Dean sensed his stare, well aware that his human was preening a bit under the attention, that he was adjusting in his seat because now Castiel can't stop his staring.

"So," Dean cleared his throat. "Finally juiced back up. Must be nice?"

"It is nice to be back but there is some of humanity that I'll miss."

Dean took his eye off the road, raising his eyebrow. "Like what? The need to piss and sleep?"

Castiel laughed, happy for the conversation, happy for the distraction. He let it brush away his thoughts. "I'll miss dreaming."

The answer surprised Dean. "You had dreams?"

Castiel nodded. "Often. They were vivid and I saw many faces I had not seen in centuries, it was a blessing. I played in many scenes that I will most certainly never experience in reality, as well." Castiel blushed, remembering some of his more erotic dreams – the topic failing to distract as effectively as he had hoped. "Dreams are one of humanity's greatest pleasures, Dean."

Dean seemed unnerved by Castiel's genuine tone. He waited for Dean to rebuff it with sarcastic humor, like he always did. His teasing smile followed as if on cue. "Scenes? Pleasures? What were you dreaming about there, Cas?"

Dean's tone dripped innuendo and Castiel couldn't stop his eyes from wandering back to Dean's crotch, checking for signs of arousal before he even knew what he was doing but as soon as he realized it, his eyes flicked back to Dean's. He had watching him the entire time.

"My dreams are private." Castiel had to clear his throat, face-burning red. Dean's grin turned amused.

"Oh come _on_ , this car ride's long and you have stories to tell. So, tell."

 _Dean tied to his bed with his cock straining against the pink thong, Castiel leaning down over the bed so only his tongue touched skin. How Dean pulled against invisible restraints as Castiel licked the skin just as it appeared along the sides._

"I don't think you would be interested, Dean."

"Try me," Dean goaded, pulling at Castiel's last bit of patience. "I'm sure it's not that crazy, just little angel kumbaya moments." He never liked taunts, even by his many brothers and sisters.

"I dreamt of giving you a blowjob," Castiel deadpanned, "while you were restrained on my bed in the bunker."

The car lurched forward as Dean's foot slipped to the break. "You, what?"

"Among other things."

"Again, what?"

Now it was Dean's turn to blush. "I dreamt of you in every one of those undergarments I purchased for you. Now I am struggling against implementing my powers and inappropriately determining if my dreams were accurate."

Dean didn't respond right away. He let the miles pass, and Castiel heard his own voice on repeat within the humans mind. His own deep voice on over and over as Dean tried not to think about which powers Castiel was suppressing. _It has to be mindreading. Cas, Cas can you hear me?_

Castiel kept his eye on the window but he couldn't stop his finger from twitching. Dean was broadcasting so loud, he couldn't help it. The movement was enough for Dean to confirm his suspicion and Castiel cringed. _Does this mean you heard me during that erotic dream conversation because…shit._

He smiled to himself but didn't answer, wasn't sure how too answer, when Dean had always been so against his "angel mojo" in the past. But he didn't seem mad right now.

 _Jesus just the thought of you hearing this is making my cock twitch in these panties – too fucking tight._

Castiel couldn't stop his audible reaction after hearing that thought and, finally, his resolve broke. Between blinks, Castiel saw Dean sitting behind the wheel in denim and flannel to driving his beloved Impala in a pair of tight white cotton panties, with bows on the hips.

He was hard, straining against the white cotton and Castiel could see the flushed pink skin peaking along the sides against the elastic just like in his dream. Dean was beautiful, everything he had been imagining and more.

Dean cleared his throat and Castiel looked up from towards his face, green eyes dancing with amusement.

"So I'm guessing it's more than just mindreading."

Castiel groaned.

So, he kind of got off on teasing Cas.

However, once they pulled off the highway and into a motel, nerves started growing under Dean's skin. Castiel was an angel again, and wouldn't sleep. So, it made no sense to get a spare room. But now, the angel sat too close, even though he was across the room.

Dean couldn't stop his legs from parting as he imagined the angel seeing through his jeans, right through the panties and straight to his hard cock.

Dean stood quickly, he was officially chicken shit. "We should go get some dinner or something."

"I do not need to eat, but I'll join you."

The thought of sitting in public, pinned to the booth with those freaking blue eyes? No. "I'll pick up something and bring it back here. You, uh," he gestured aimlessly around the motel room. "You do whatever."

He let a deep breath as he walked towards the Impala. Fuck, he couldn't turn his dick off. The fact that he was hard because he couldn't stop the shame and, yes, arousal, from showing on his cheeks? Well, he wouldn't think about that.

But god the sound of Castiel's voice curling around the word _blowjob_. His hands clenched the wheel but it couldn't stop the flood of images, of Castiel on his knees, lips parted around his cock. He would be a mess, hardly know what to do, maybe experimentally lick the tip and god that shouldn't look that good to him.

Dean was down the rabbit hole already though. He was already wondering if maybe Castiel wasn't so innocent after all. He bought Dean a fistful of panties, for fucks sake. That in and out of itself counted for something. Maybe the former human had to turn some tricks on the road. Castiel on his knees in a bus station restroom should be so appealing; his dick stirred. Dean took one hand off the wheel and pressed it against his groin.

Yup, he'd be finding the nearest drive thru.

He was back at the motel in too short a time. He hadn't settled down either. From inside the Impala he could see their room, the light on and the familiar messy haired silhouette. His cock still throbbed. He couldn't walk in there, not like this.

He bit his lip as he opened the glove compartment, hoping that he or Sam or hell even his Dad had left some lotion accessible. They lived in this car; sometimes a guy just had to rub one out – like at this very moment, with his hard-on practically unzipping his pants for him.

Fuck, the messy hair moved closer to the curtain. Dean held his breath and waited for Castiel's head to peek out of the curtain, but nothing happened. It moved away again, disappearing entirely into the motel room. Dean looked around the dark, empty parking lot one more time, thankful he had pulled into a shaded spot in the far corner of the lot. He was going to do this, right here, right now, because he couldn't face Castiel otherwise.

He pulled his jeans to his knees and stared down at the white cotton. The fabric stretched, tented so that he could see the topside of his shaft. He reached in and started stroking. Castiel had dreamt about him. His hand tightened as his cock pulsed, a tiny bead of precum forming at the top. Castiel thought about him, thought about him in his panties. God, and he could hear his mind. Dean wondered if Castiel could hear him now, right in this very moment. If maybe, the angel was sitting on the motel bed in his trench coat and his fly unzipped right on the other side of that wall.

With the thought, Dean exploded into the cotton cursing because he really hadn't meant to do that. He had napkins right on the passenger seat but the thought had swept him away at such a rapid pace that he had soiled his panties before he even knew what was happening.

…

Castiel had not been listening in on Dean's mind as the man relieved his sexual tension in the Impala but Castiel could smell semen on him as soon as he walked in the door. It smelled tangy, sour almost, and immediately reminded him of finding that first pair of panties in the laundry room.

"How was your dinner?" The angel inquired.

Dean stood by the door, running his hands through his hair. "Wha? Oh, it was fine."

Castiel could feel the blush on his cheeks, a stranger sensation as an angel than a human, he noted. It was placed there by the fact that he knew sometime in the last twenty minutes Dean had his hands on his cock. He knew, but he didn't know what to do about it. He knew, but he didn't know how to stop his own cock from hardening at the thought. He knew, but he didn't know what it meant.

"You okay?" Dean asked, finally stepping away from the door. Castiel looked up at his concerned human, the anxiety rushing out of his system when the man reached out to grip his shoulder. "This whole thing between us has been a lot, huh?"

Castiel knew what he was referring too. This dangerous game they've been playing, and the ante getting higher with his renewed powers. But this hadn't changed, this bond between him. "I just want to take care of you."

The corner of Dean's mouth twitched into a smile. "So you went out and bought me panties."

Castiel half-shrugged. "You like pretty things."

Dean's fingers trailed up Castiel's shoulder, up his cheek and into his hair. Castiel leaned into the warmth as their gaze met. Dean nodded in agreement."Ya, I do."

Dean was so close now, standing in front of him, almost between his knees. Castiel was a weak angel when it came to Dean, always had been, and this time he didn't even stop his eyes from lowering towards Dean's waistband.

He could hear Dean's breath catch, feels the man's fingers tighten in his hair. "Do it, Cas."

The whispered words hung in the air for a moment before hesitant hands lifted the to button of Dean's jeans. Castiel looked up again waiting for a nod of approval. He moaned when it was received, flicking open the button quickly but taking his time with the zipper. He wanted to see, couldn't recall wanting anything more, but he wanted to savor it: his first time unraveling Dean Winchester.

Half-way through unzipping, Dean's arousal turned to embarrassment. Castiel could hear it loud and clear even though the human kept silent. It made Castiel stop his actions, which only caused the blush to deepen.

"What is it, Dean?"

"You should know. I, uh, came in my pants about fifteen minutes ago so you may see –"

Something on Castiel's face must have stopped Dean's embarrassed ramblings because the man could only stare now, arousal back in full forth. Castiel smiled deviously. His fingers trailed below the zipper, feeling the still damp spots of cum. "You did this Dean?"

Dean's breath caught at the question, lip pulled back between his teeth. Castiel had never seen someone so gorgeous.

"Were you thinking about me?" Castiel asked in a graveled whisper.

Dean nodded slowly, beautiful blush spreading down his neck.

"Show me."

Dean stepped back, barely breathing, as he finished unzipping his jeans. Castiel watched, transfixed as Dean pushed the denim off his hips, down over his thighs. He stepped out of them, then stood a bit awkwardly, in front of Castiel.

"Move your hands, Dean."

They had been clasped in front of his cock but he dropped them at the order. Castiel did not know what possessed him to _take_ Dean this way, but with every order he saw Dean's pupils darken and cock twitch. It strained now, so visible against the white cotton. Dean fidgeted with one of the bows attached to the waistband and Castiel decided he very much liked Dean this way.

"Do you like the bows Dean?"

He nodded, eyes on the motel carpet.

"Look at me."

Their eyes met and Castiel searched them. "You want this?"

"Do you?" Dean countered.

Castiel smiled. "Very much."

"Well then, ya, me too."

"Come here."

Dean took two steps forward, into the space between Castiel's knees. Castiel rubbed the back of Dean's thighs, letting the sparse hair tickle his palms and knew that he would very much like Dean to become comfortable here, right between his thighs.

"I want to kiss you," Castiel murmured.

Dean leaned forward, straddling Castiel and pressing their lips together in one smooth move.

Castiel froze for a second before reacting wildly, one hand running into his hair, the other reaching out to trace along the head of Dean's cock. Dean moaned, loudly, detaching their lips with a devious smile. "Straight for the main course, huh?"

Castiel gripped the shaft tighter, enjoying immensely his effect on Dean. "You've been teasing me for too long."

Dean chuckled. "I guess that's true."

"You are wicked." Castiel accused.

Dean smirked. "You love it."

"Ya, I do."

Dean had wanted this since the moment he had walked into the basement and noticed his laundry, folded so nicely, with his panties on top like a cherry. No, if he was honest with himself, he had made the decision before, when he had tossed his cum soaked panties in his laundry basket. Sure, it had been an afterglow-induced moment of insanity but his mind's dark and devious corners had hoped.

Then Castiel went and bought him a collection of ladies underwear and it suddenly got a lot more dangerous.

Castiel, the angel on his shoulder, the guardian taking care of him – of course he'd want to take care of Dean with this, as well.

" _Ya, I do."_ The words sounded so genuine out of the angel's mouth, and he let them give him the courage to push Castiel back onto the bed. He kissed the angel hard, tongues dancing against one another and he tasted so damn good.

"You're wearing too many clothes." Dean murmured into his lips. "Can't you angel them away?"

Castiel groaned as Dean grinded his hips. He tried to respond but Dean pressed harder and harder until Castiel had to reach out and grab his waist. Dean tested the angel's strength and god; he couldn't move a muscle and that shouldn't be so hot.

"You are suddenly very receptive to me using my 'angel powers' on you."

"Cas, _please_."

The hands moved from his hips and he missed them immediately but then Castiel was snapping and a naked, warm, wonderful, angel, laid sprawled beneath him. "Fuck."

Castiel smiled. "Now who is wearing too many clothes?"

Dean snorted. "I've officially corrupted the angel."

Castiel cleared his throat, eyes crinkling with amusement. He looked beautiful and Dean found himself not even trying to negate the thought. It was true, this angel of his, with those Bambi eyes. He was beautiful.

"I do believe I've been considered corrupted, by you in particular, since we escaped Zachariah."

Dean groaned. "Can you not bring his name up when we're naked?"

"But you're not naked, that is what I –"

Dean interrupted him with a quick kiss, taken aback for a moment at how natural the action felt before swiftly removing his shirt. His hands settled on the waistband of his panties and he paused, the air around them returning to the way it had been before when Castiel's voice deepened and dispensed orders.

"Leave them on."

Dean nodded, hips unconsciously returning to their grind. His eyes were drawn to the scene in front of him, his own bow tipped panties rubbing against Castiel's thick shaft, the smooth skin against covered cock.

"You're beautiful." The angel said

Dean replied by twisting his hips, circling his motion.

"Dean," Castiel managed between harsh breaths. "Feels so good, I want – "

"What do you want?" Dean asked, leaning back so he sat over Castiel. He kept his hips grinding in maddeningly slow circles.

"I want you," Castiel panted, blue eyes opening so they could hold Dean's, "through your panties."

The words stopped Dean's motions and Castiel's hands found his hips. "It's okay if you don't – you asked, and I –"

Dean smiled, hips coming to life against and Castiel squirmed under him so easily and this thing between him, it wasn't going away. For one thing, he had too many panties he wanted to show off. But, it was more than that, they both knew it.

"Yes."

Castiel's hips jerked up, a drop of precum catching on Dean's cotton and they both watched as it spread into the cloth.

"Fuck, yes." Dean repeated. "There's lube right next to you, I've never done this before –well, never in this position but I going to lube myself up and slide you into me –"

Castiel groaned, hips arching again, meeting Dean grind for grind. "Yes, Dean, yes."

"Lube."

The angel shook his head, and merely snapped again. Dean was so thrown by the cool sensation within his own ass that it took him a moment to feel the change against his skin. Gone were the white panties with pink bows. In their place was smooth satin and rough lace. He opened his eyes to see his own pair of green panties.

He lifted an eyebrow and met Castiel's eye. The angel squirmed with embarrassment. "What's this, Cas?"

"I, well," Castiel paused, unable to meet Dean's eye. "I may have a favorite."

Dean's face broke out into a grin. "Do you now?" Well these are a nice pair." He ground his hips against Castiel once, twice, before lifting up onto his knees and stretching the panties to one side. He had done this many times, but always by himself and with something much smaller than Castiel's cock so he began stretching.

The movement made Castiel's embarrassment slide away and he took it as a moment to bombard Dean with every single salacious thought in the angel's head. "You look so good, Dean, sitting on top of me in those lace green panties. These were the first I saw, you know? I didn't understand at first but as soon as I started to piece it together it was all I could think about, so beautiful. Then you went off and became a horrible tease and, oh, Dean."

"Fuck Cas," his body stretched around his fingers. "I want you so bad, wanted you to know – "

Castiel reached up to grab Dean through the fabric. Dean threw his head back with a powerful moan. He didn't care, he was ready enough. He replaced his fingers with the tip of Castiel's cock and slid, slowly, down onto the angel.

They both moaned when Dean settled on Castiel's waist. Pausing for a moment to adjust, Dean felt stretched, full, more full than anything he had up there before and this was Cas, and fuck, he had to move. Cas' hand still gripped lightly against his cock and the panties were stretching over his ass and it all felt so hot that when he moved it rippled through his veins. Rocking over and over, Cas fit so well inside him and he wasn't going to last long.

Dean wrenched his eyes open, wanting to see the angel. He was not disappointed. Castiel's eyes were locked on Dean's cock, burning with arousal. "Cas, so good."

The angel moaned in agreement, gaze pulling from Dean's cock to his eyes. "Dean, I, it feels too good – won't last long."

Dean moaned as Castiel's cock brushed his prostate, and nearly cried as the hand around his cock gripped not a second later. Dean laughed softly. "And you think I will? Fuck Cas, through my _panties?_ You are going to be far kinkier than I imagined – "

Something in Dean's words made Castiel rock forward, hips arching off the bed as he pressed into that sweet spot inside of Dean. Castiel rolled his hips, hard and Dean couldn't take it anymore, his body tensed as came over and over into his panties. It covered Castiel's hand, turning the lace into a wet mess of warmth and pressure. The angel kept stroking as he continued to thrust his hips off the bed and into Dean. "So good, Dean – so tight, and – "

Then he was coming, eyes squeezing shut with pleasure and Dean felt the pulsing of Castiel's orgasm deep within him. Only then did Dean fall forward, bringing their lips together again. The position caused Castiel to slip from inside him but he remained nestled between the panties and Dean's skin.

"We're a mess." Dean murmured.

Castiel nodded.

"Angel powers?" Dean requested.

Castiel slipped open his eyes and threw Dean an significant glance. He snapped again, and then closed his eyes to settle into the warm of their embrace.

From behind closed eyes Castiel heard Dean's startled gasp, then the disappointing loss of warmth as Dean sat back across his hips. "Hey! We're in my room in the bunker. What about all my stuff?"

"It's here."

"And motel – did we even check-out?"

"They'll charge your card."

"What did I tell you about mojoing me out of places?"

Castiel smiled, eyes still closed, and reached out for Dean. Only when the man was settled against his chest again did he answer. "You weren't complaining about my powers earlier this evening, so go to sleep, here, in your own bed."

Dean groaned but the angel had a point and he couldn't help but smirk as he did as he was told. Only when he was slipping into sleep did he realize Castiel had supplied him with a clean pair of panties as well.

 _fin._


End file.
